First Congregational Church of Kittery Point, United Church of Christ February 5, 2012

If you were driving by the church this week you might have seen a few trucks parked in our parking lot along with some wood, metal posts, and bags of concrete laying around outside. As such, you may have been curious as to what was going on here. Yet as you entered the building here this morning, I’m guessing that (aside from the smell) everything seemed pretty much the same, right?

Well, it should have, because the latest work—the installation of lally columns—is being done beneath where we sit and stand right now. These concrete filled, metal posts are being placed atop new slabs of concrete in the basement, to help ensure that our church has a firm foundation. While the building was not in danger of caving in, some of the old support columns had deteriorated to the point where they were no longer supporting the weight that they needed to—so it was time to replace.

It is our hope that once the lally columns are in place, we can begin to solicit grant money to help us fix the windows, install a new handicap-accessible entry way our front, and accomplish some other projects that need attention. Knowing that the church is on a firm foundation, organizations and foundations will be much more likely to assist us as we seek to bring our nearly 300-year old building into the 21^{st century!}　

And believe me, the irony of all this is not lost on me! Our church is building a firmer foundation. The notes of "How Firm a Foundation" are playing in my head right now, as I bet they are for some of you as well!

But just the same, it does give rise to an interesting question. Last Sunday during the 10:00 a.m. service we built a church out of acts of love during the Children’s Sermon, and I told the kids that the church isn’t a building—the church is people, the church is all of us, wherever we are. If that’s the case—which I truly believe it is—then what’s our foundation? Surely not the lally columns beneath us, right? What is our faith foundation when the church isn’t a building?

Interesting questions, the answers for which can be found, I believe, by traveling back to ancient Israel and to that Isaiah lesson that we read a moment ago.

So today’s Hebrew Bible lesson is taken from a portion of Isaiah’s prophesy which is "thought to date to the period of the Babylonian exile, perhaps shortly before the capture of Babylon by Cyrus" in 539 BC. In short, this text comes from a time when the people of Israel have been forced from their homeland, and are living in a foreign land under the control of a foreign nation.

But unlike many of the scriptures written during the time of exile, this section of Isaiah actually tends to be more hopeful, as the prophet "proclaims over and over . . . . [that the people of Israel] are about to be released and allowed to return home." And yet, despite this, hope is far from the prevailing emotion that we see from the people of Israel. As one author writes: "The exiles feel as if God has dumped and left them. They give voice to heartsick frustration . . . . [as] God has long appeared inactive" in their lives.

In short, the people of Israel are beginning to doubt the presence and power of their God—perhaps wondering if they should switch their allegiance to the Babylonian gods who might be better able to help them in their time of trouble. Having forgotten all that God has done for them throughout their long history, they are essentially suffering from "theological amnesia" and they need to be reminded that "God really is in charge."

As such, this leads the prophet to begin today’s lesson with a series of rhetorical questions that are designed to do just that: remind Israel that God is in charge. "Have you not been paying attention?" the prophet begins, "Have you not been listening? Haven’t you heard these stories all your life? Don’t you understand the foundation of all things?"

Operating under "the assumption that faith begins with memory" and that "where memory fails, the faith of the community is threatened," the prophet gives the people of Israel a cosmic view of God’s relationship with the world to jog their memory. God is the one who created all that we have to live in. God is the one who watches over us, as if were grasshoppers hopping around inside a terrarium. No other god is able to provide for people like this, and so the Hebrew God is the one to be turned to in the time of trouble.

For God does not grow faint or weary; God gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless; those who wait on God shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. In other words, when all seems hopeless, when the people of Israel feel as if they can go no further, they need to remember what God has done for them in the past, and trust that God will give them that same strength to get through their present trials as well.

Words from the prophet to our ancestors in faith some 2,500 years ago, that are as relevant today as they were back then. For how many of us can say that we are today—or have been in the past—in a time of exile, a time of helpless wandering in life with no clear or discernable path forward, which left us wondering about God’s presence in our lives?

The breakup of a marriage or relationship that left us to face the world without a partner. A change in health that would necessitate all-too-frequent visits to cancer treatment wards. The downsizing of our life-long employer, that left us not only wondering what our next employment would be, but how our next bills would be paid. A journey back into the world or addiction or depression that we thought we had left and gone forever. The decline of a loved one, leaving them present in body, but challenged in mind, and unable to live the life they once lived.

My friends, it may not be exile in Babylon, but these scenarios—or the ones that you were recalling in your minds as I was talking—are most certainly akin to what those people of Israel were living through. As such, the prophet’s words are as true today as they were back then: in our trials, God is present; God will give us the strength to persevere; God will raise us up.

But just what does that look like? How does God do that? Well, sometimes it might just take the form of what we’d call miraculous, not unlike the Mark text we encountered this morning—a moment when the hand of the divine seems to break through the barrier separating earth and heaven in a way that we can scarcely begin to understand, let alone explain. An inexplicable sign that points directly to God.

Maybe you’ve been blessed to have such an occurrence in your life: a diagnosis of remission, when all signs pointed to recurrence; a return to health, when hospice was the next number to be called on the list. Maybe that has been your experience—a clear sign of God’s presence.

Or it may be that God has been working less overtly. Maybe God has been working behind the scenes—perhaps in a way that was not discernable at the time, and may not have been discernable until months or years later, when the blessing of perspective allowed you to stop and say, "oh, so that’s where God was working."

The loss of that job that allowed you to discover your true love and passion in life. The diagnosis that enabled the rift between you and a loved one to seem insignificant enough to mend. That’s God moving in the shadows, my friends. And both that and the miraculous are intended to remind us that we do not journey through life alone—God is there to raise us up all along the way.

But you know what? None of this is news to you. None of what I have said this morning is revelatory. You know all this, in the same way that the people of Israel knew all this. The problem is, when we’re in the midst of that pain and sadness and distress and aimless wandering, it is so hard to see the big picture.

We need someone to remind us that the memories of what God has done in the past are the foundation of our faith. Memories of the ways in which God has lived and moved and worked in our lives, and memories of the ways in which God has done the same for friends, fellow parishioners, and people of faith for generations—God’s track record is the foundation of our faith, the lally columns that will raise us up—as Isaiah promised would happen to the Israelites and as Jesus did for Simon’s mother-in-law.

Now, it may be that you don’t need to hear this message today. Life may be going along wonderfully well for you, you may sense God’s presence all around you, and you may know for certain where God is leading you. If that’s the case, then wonderful. Celebrate and give thanks for God’s presence.

But my guess is that you’re going to need this message sometime. Some time life is going to take a difficult turn. So print this sermon out and stick it in your sock drawer—somewhere that you’ll see it often. For as one author writes: "those who remember their history and believe in the God who fulfills promises will be able to receive new strength and life from their relationship with this God . . . . Hope may be hard to sustain, but if they depend on God and wait and trust in their own story, they will receive the ability to meet the challenges and, indeed, to rise above them."

But it may just be that your sock drawer is a messy place, and you need another way to remember this message. Perhaps a mnemonic device—a means of jogging your memory of what we’ve talked about here today that you can call to mind quickly when such a moment of trial hits—will do. So on this Super Bowl Sunday, enter in Bobby Bare’s "Drop Kick Me Jesus Through the Goal Posts of Life." (Yes, it’s a real song!)

Now, honestly, I’m not sure how this song deals with this idea of raising us up in times of trouble—aside from the image of Jesus putting a foot in our backside and giving us a swift kick (which isn’t too bad, I guess!). But if you stretch the lyrics a bit—ok, a lot!—the song can be seen as a prayer, of sorts, for God to be active in our lives in a way that most of us probably wouldn’t think to imagine. Perhaps it’ll be just wacky enough to stick in your memory, so that no matter what life throws at you, you’ll remember that God has the ability to raise you up—just like a football. So here goes:

Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.

Make me, oh make me, Lord more than I am
Make me a piece in your master game plan
Free from the earthly temptation below
I’ve got the will, Lord if you’ve got the toe.

Take all the brothers who’ve gone on before
And all of the sisters who’ve knocked on your door
All the departed dear loved ones of mine
Stick ’em up front in the offensive line.

Yeah, Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life
End over end neither left nor to right
Straight through the heart of them righteous uprights
Drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life.

And with that, there’s nothing else to say but: Amen.

© 2012 by Rev. Dr. Jeffrey M. Gallagher, All Rights Reserved.